The Devil In Disguise by Stefanie Sloane Read Free Book Online Page B

fingertip over the scarlet floral pattern embroidered on her coverlet. “What ever would make you think such a thing?”
    The closed door of her bedchamber burst open with a clatter.
    “Utter one more word without us and we shall never speak to either of you again!”
    Lucinda smiled as her two other aunts, and Bessie’s sisters, Victoria and Charlotte, hurried toward the bed.
    Encased in yards of white muslin and wrapped in fine cashmere bed shawls, the middle and youngest of the Grey sisters managed to exude an excruciating level of primness that made Bessie’s eyes roll nearly to the back of her skull.
    “Really, girls,” Bessie said, shaking her head. “Are you at such an advanced age that you must cover yourselves from head to toe?” she asked.
    Lucinda hid a smile as Bessie, in an automatic move, leaned back slightly so that even Charlotte, whose eyesight was poor at best, could not fail to notice her sister’s impressive bosom.
    “Once a lady, my dear Bessie, always a lady,” Victoria St. Ainsbury, the Duchess of Highbury, answered emphatically with only a touch of sarcasm. She nudged her eldest sister aside with her bony hip to make room for herself next to Lucinda.
    Lady Charlotte Grey patted Bessie on the shoulder, took a place at the end of the bed, and eyed Lucinda expectantly. “All right, dear, proceed.”
    Lucinda took in the sight of her three aunts, “the Furies” as they were known to all. As unlike from one another as anyone could be, the sisters shared one trait in common: sheer, single-minded willfulness. Their differences could always be resolved by their agreement that absolutely nothing should stand in the way of what they wanted. Not men, nor society, and certainly not one another.
    “It’s King Solomon’s Mine,” Lucinda began, taking note of the immediate reaction that each sister had to the prize stallion’s name. “I’ve been offered the chance to win him.”
    “How utterly glorious!” Bessie shrieked, “Rufus will be green with envy. A stallion with the bloodlines of King Solomon’s Mine practically guarantees success. Ours will be the superlative breeding program in all of Britain.”
    Victoria halted Bessie’s rhapsodizing by gently covering her sister’s mouth with her palm. “Yes, Bessie, we’re all aware of what King Solomon’s Mine has to offer,” she said before Bessie could interrupt her. She huffed to a halt, drawing a deep breath before continuing. “But do not torture your son with the news just yet. How, exactly, Lucinda, will you go about winning him?”
    Lucinda tugged at her long, thick hair. “It’s rather simple, really. I’ve only to allow someone to court me for a specific amount of time. At the end of that time, if I’ve managed to avoid losing my heart, the horse is mine.”
    Bessie pulled Victoria’s hand away from her mouth and sat up straight. “Considering that you’ve refused most of the eligible male population of England, this will not be a problem. Now,” she continued, reaching for the plate of macaroon. “let us celebrate with a tiny midnight morsel, shall we?”
    Charlotte took a treat from the plate and settled back into her cozy spot at the foot of the bed. “Lucinda, dear, I’ve only one question: Who is he?”
    “Yes, who is this man?” Victoria asked, speaking between bites. “I’m afraid I lost track of King Solomon’s Mine after that idiot Whytham gambled him away to that infamous Iron Will.”
    Lucinda discreetly wiped at a bead of perspiration at her temple. “Well,” she began, “that is to say …” She hesitated and took a hasty bite of her macaroon.
    Charlotte gasped, moving closer to the circle of women. “It’s him, then, isn’t it? The Duke of Clairemont.” She looked at her sisters, then back at Lucinda. “It’s Iron Will.”
    Victoria slowly lowered the remainder of her macaroon onto the plate and stared owl-eyed at Lucinda. “Of course not. Lucinda would never entertain the